Hell Divers

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  The once-happy memory now a nightmare, Weaver wanted to open his eyes, wanted to make it stop. But if he did, he would open them to the real nightmare of his home and family gone. There was no escaping it.

  Tears rolled down his dry skin, and he watched in horror as his daughters’ faces softened and peeled away from their bones. Their clothes caught fire, and they slumped to the ground. The shriek of a Siren ripped their burning bodies away from his mind, and his eyes finally snapped open.

  “No!” Weaver shouted. “No!”

  He gasped for air, clutching at the armor over his chest with one hand and pushing at the ground with the other. Rising to his feet, he looked out over the bluff. Pinpricks of red light surrounded the charred remnants of the airship.

  “I’m sorry,” Weaver whispered. “God, I’m so sorry for …” He choked on his words, distracted by a blur of motion in the sky. Something swooped from the clouds and soared over the field of embers, vanishing in the plumes of smoke.

  Weaver fumbled for his binos, wondering if he was really losing his mind. He pulled them from his vest and zoomed in on the debris for the first time. Scattered coals glowed everywhere he looked. Pieces of shrapnel, hunks of metal … His breath caught at the sight of smoldering bodies.

  “My girls,” he murmured. “My beautiful baby girls.” He felt like tossing the binos and screaming at the top of his lungs, but another flash of movement streaked over the embers. He followed a dark outline to the edge of the field, where it dropped to the ground. Another brilliant explosion ripped through Ares, spreading a curtain of light over the wreckage.

  Weaver shielded his helmet with one hand and waited a moment for the brilliance to pass. When the light began to recede, he brought the binos to his visor and searched the field. A Siren stood over one of the embers, but this one was different. Leathery wings hung at its sides. It dropped to all fours and hunched its back, and the spiked vertebrae split in half, swallowing the wings like a mouthful of teeth closing over some morsel. The monster let out a screech, and a cacophony of wails answered from the sky.

  Within seconds, a squadron of Sirens was soaring through the smoke and wheeling over the smoking bodies. He staggered closer to the edge of the bluff.

  The realization hit him harder than a crosswind on a dive. The creatures were here to scavenge. Waiting for the fires to die down so they could feed on the burned bodies of his family and the other dead passengers of Ares. He started to feel his body for the first time since the crash.

  When the numbness had finally passed, and the anger of a man who had lost everything took hold, he swung open the cylinder of his revolver and, with cold, stiff fingers, loaded the last of his bullets. Then he tapped his minicomputer to run a diagnostic on his suit. The cracked screen was frozen solid.

  It didn’t matter. All he needed was enough battery to get to the wreckage and search it for his family so he could give them a proper burial. He would rather the Sirens ripped him apart than let them feed on his girls’ remains.

  Weaver pushed the final bullet into the cylinder of his revolver and closed it. Trekking toward the wreckage, he tried to remember the words from Jones’ prayer, but after a few minutes he gave up. “I’m coming home, girls,” he whispered. “I’m finally coming home.”

  * * * * *

  Captain Ash ran through the hallways on her way to engineering. She couldn’t remember the last time she had visited Samson in the filthy compartment tucked just inside the hull of the Hive, but she couldn’t wait for him to report in. She needed to know their situation now.

  The closest entrance was a two-minute walk from the bridge. Her presence drew the gaze of every resident flowing through the halls. Most were gazes of resentment and anger. They wanted someone to blame for the power shortages, the radiation poisoning, the meager rations. Naturally, that blame rested with her, even though she had done everything in her power to keep the lower-deckers alive. She had given them a third of the livestock from the farm, given them their own doctor—even given them extra rations. None of that seemed to matter to anyone. Most of them didn’t have any real grasp of how the ship operated. In the past, they had reverted to riots, and there were rumors of another rebellion brewing. She turned a blind eye to the black-market goods they sold, but violence was the one thing she absolutely would not tolerate on her ship.

  Ash walked with her head held high because in the end, it didn’t matter what they thought, so long as she kept them alive. It was the burden many leaders had carried before her, and she shouldered it without complaining. One day, they would thank her when she led them to a new home, one with real ground beneath their feet and the sun overhead. But that dream seemed far away now.

  A soldier standing guard outside engineering threw a quick salute as Ash and her armed escort approached. The entrance was tucked away in a dimly lit hallway off the main corridor.

  “Captain,” the man said. He raised a clipboard. “I wasn’t expecting anyone from command this morning.”

  “Samson doesn’t know I’m coming.”

  “No problem, ma’am,” the guard said. He waved his key card over the security panel and hoisted the door open.

  “Stay here,” Ash said to the two soldiers. The door sealed behind her with a metallic snick, and she could hear the hum and clank of the engine compartment. The noise reminded her that she was about to enter a world of grease and smoke—a world much different from the spotless white bridge.

  Samson waited at the bottom of the staircase with his hands on his wide hips.

  He scowled and raised his brows as if to say, I told you so. Ash didn’t have time to argue with him. She needed to know their situation, and she needed the information ten minutes ago.

  “Talk to me,” she said. “How bad is it?”

  Samson grunted. “Bad, Captain. Really bad. We’re running on battery power. I was forced to shut down all the reactors. There are several leaks.” He paused and massaged his forehead. “They’re contained—for now. But I lost four men. They sacrificed themselves so the radiation wouldn’t kill everyone aboard.”

  Ash felt the anger threaten to take hold again. “I’m sorry, Samson …”

  He held up a hand. “I don’t think you understand, Captain. The damage to the ship is critical. I’m not sure I can fix her this time. Six of our gas bladders ruptured from a power surge. We lost a thousand cubic feet of helium, and as you know, it takes time to produce more through our usual collection method.”

  Ash could hardly believe what she was hearing. How could the ship go from being in its best in years, to worst?

  Hades, that’s how.

  Burying her misgivings over the ill-fated rescue attempt, she said, “How much longer until the gas bladders are fixed and refilled?”

  Samson rubbed his eye, leaving a streak of grease. “I … I don’t know. Harvesting helium isn’t easy, Captain.”

  “Then show me the damage.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t have time for a tour,” Samson said. “I need to fix our ship!”

  “And I need to see the damage so I know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Suit yourself,” he huffed. He led her across the small lobby and into the offices. Row after row of faded metal desks filled the room, but only two engineers were working there.

  Samson stopped at a door on the opposite end of the room and lifted a breathing apparatus from a cabinet on the wall. He handed it to the captain. “There was a fire earlier. Might still be smoke.”

  Ash slid the mask over her face and tightened the band around her ponytail. Samson waved at the security camera and gave a thumbs-up. The door chirped and swung open.

  A wave of heat rolled over them as they stepped onto the catwalk extending over the machinery. The hiss of steam and clack of parts that needed grease filled the room.

  Engineers in light-blue coveralls clustered around the generato
rs, checking displays and gauges to make sure the turbines were working properly, oblivious of the observers above them. They each had a task that, combined with the others, kept the Hive flying.

  Samson moved to the other side of the mezzanine and pointed to a metal block, covered in white foam, on the aft starboard corner of the room. “One of the generators was destroyed,” he said. “There’s no fixing it. But it’s the reactors I’m most worried about.”

  As they continued down the walkway, Ash imagined the thermal energy flowing from the reactors belowdecks to the generators. The steam produced by the heat turned a turbine inside as it passed, and the rotary motion created the electricity. The electric power then traveled through miles of conduit that stretched throughout the bowels of the ship, to all the places it was needed. That energy fed everything from the ship’s motors to the lights above her head. The nuclear reactors were the heart of the ship, powering all its systems.

  “All but one of our reactors has been damaged,” Samson said. “The pressure valves on reactors two through eight are stuck. Even if I can unstick them, they still have to be replaced.” He pointed toward the west wall. “I have a team belowdecks now, and I’ve already diverted power from every source I can, but it’s not going to be enough.”

  Ash followed Samson’s pudgy finger, which pointed to an open hatch. An engineer in a space suit crawled out of the opening and dropped to the deck. Even from a distance, she could see the grease and ash that covered him. The worker removed his helmet and broke into a coughing fit. A medic wearing a red cross on his arm rushed over, pulled an oxygen mask out, and helped the injured man slide it over his face.

  Ash blinked, taking it all in. The damage was beyond comprehension. Her effort to save Ares may well have doomed her own ship.

  “My God,” she murmured.

  “No,” Samson muttered. “Not even God can save us if we don’t get the reactors back online. Until then, I’m requesting we shut down every noncritical system on the ship and divert that power to the turbofans, the farm, and the water treatment plant. It’s time to get out the candles.”

  “Are you sure that’s the only way? There’s been increasing unrest lately. A blackout will only make things worse. We could face another—”

  “Damn it, Captain, we need to shut down the power to the lower decks. Every dwelling, every store—everything that’s nonessential. The mechanical threats are worse than any human threat on board.”

  Ash took a few seconds to consider the ramifications of Samson’s request, then nodded. “I’ll have Jordan put out the order to increase security on the ship. Every Militia soldier will be put on patrol and sentry duty.”

  “Good,” Samson said. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his coveralls. “I’ve put together a list of what I need to get the reactors back online. In the meantime, the remaining gas bladders will keep us in the air—as long as we don’t lose another one. We can only run on backup power for about forty-eight hours.”

  Ash took the list and turned away from the railing. “I’ll tell Jordan to plot us a course to the closest location for the items on your list.”

  He held up his hand. “We won’t make it far. The turbofans and rudders will drain the backup power faster if we try.” He paused and gave her a meaningful look. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m afraid our only option is a dive into Hades.”

  The lesion in Ash’s throat burned, and her gut ached. Resisting the urge to put her hand to her stomach, she clenched her jaw and looked out over the compartment. Everything had changed in the blink of an eye. Ares was gone. The Hive was dying, and she was going to have to do exactly what Captain Willis had been forced to do. She finally understood. Willis hadn’t been crazy, or even foolhardy—just desperate. They had all just been trying to survive—like her, trying to save their people.

  “How long can you hold off on diverting energy from the noncritical functions?” Ash asked.

  “I’d like to do it ASAP,” Samson said. “But if you need time …” He glanced down at his watch. “I’d say you have nine hours, tops.”

  “I’ll make an announcement tomorrow morning, first thing. You stay close to the damn radio, Samson. We may be forced to turn those reactors back on. You got it?”

  The engineer nodded again, his dewlaps jiggling. “I’ll keep things running the best I can until then.” He pushed off the railing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get down there with my crew.”

  Taking his place at the railing, she gripped the warm metal and stared at the hatch that led down to the reactors. The injured engineer was slipping his helmet back on and preparing to reenter the tunnel. They all had jobs to do, and like the engineers below, Captain Maria Ash had to get on with hers. She had a ship to command, a riot to forestall, and over five hundred souls to protect.

  ELEVEN

  X breathed hard on his way to the bridge. The slow flow of foot traffic was giving him ample time to regret the advice he had given Captain Ash about the journey to Hades. Regret was something he had lived with his entire life, but this time he feared he had helped drive the final nail into Homo sapiens’ coffin.

  That was the thing about extinction: every move became a life-or-death decision, with the fate of entire species on the line.

  Emergency sirens blared from the wall-mounted speakers. Ignoring the sounds was impossible, and X didn’t want to look like some milquetoast by cupping his hands over his ears. So he worked his way stoically through the crowd.

  Red light bathed the frightened faces around him. He pushed through a knot of lower-deckers who had gathered outside the bridge. They yelled in their twangy accent at a pair of Militia soldiers wearing riot gear and shoving the swelling crowd back.

  “Ya can’t do this!” an emaciated man yelled. “We got a right to eat!”

  Jordan, standing behind the soldiers, raised a hand and shouted, “Rations will be handed out in a few hours!”

  No sooner had the words left the lieutenant’s mouth than the furious crowd surged forward. Angry screams broke out over the sirens.

  X waited for the guards to push the lower-deckers back. He scanned the faces, stopping on a man who hung back in the shadows. Even in the muted red glow, he could see the bruised face. It was Travis, the man he’d had the run-in with at the Wingman three nights ago. He had three others with him, each with a hard and hungry look on his face. A man wearing a scarf pulled up to his nose stared back at X with crazed eyes. He remembered that one, too, from the encounter in the hallway yesterday. These were the same two who had mouthed off to the Militia soldiers.

  “Xavier, let’s go!” Jordan shouted.

  X looked Travis up and down one last time before pushing his way through the crowd. That hothead was trouble. He’d have to warn Ash to keep an eye out.

  Even with the emergency lights, it was dark inside the bridge—darker still when one of the guards sealed the doors behind X. He hurried across the top landing and followed Jordan to the conference room.

  The other Hell Diver team leads were already waiting inside. Ash sat at the head of the table with a disconcerting look on her face. All eyes gravitated to X as he entered. He had forgotten about the bloodstains on his uniform.

  “Listen up, everyone,” Ash said. She waited for silence, then said, “Ares is gone and the Hive is in critical shape.” Her voice had a mournful tone. X imagined he would have sounded about the same.

  No one replied for several seconds.

  Jordan was first to speak. “Samson has shut down all the reactors, and we’re running on backup power. We also lost six of the gas bladders. He’s got his crews working on everything, but it’s not looking good.”

  “What?” Tony asked. “How the hell … ?”

  Ash silenced him with a raised hand. “Doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that we get more fuel cells and pressure valves.”

  “
Or what?” Cruise asked.

  “Or we join Ares on the surface,” Ash replied. “Lieutenant, fill everyone in on our current location.”

  Jordan activated the console in front of him. A holographic map stretched over the table. “There are several known locations of fuel cells in the zone to the east. Unfortunately, they’re all too far away. It would take us too long to get there, expending power we don’t have. As I said, we’re running on battery power. A journey to any of these possible locations would drain the system.”

  “We’re out of options,” Ash said. “We have to send you to the surface.”

  Cruise slammed the table with his fist. “I told you this was a bad fucking idea! Now you expect us to give our lives for your mistake?”

  X understood Cruise’s anger. What he couldn’t excuse, though, was his utter lack of empathy. He gave him a hard look that did little to change his tone.

  “Since when did you start forgetting your duty, Commander?” Ash replied.

  “Excuse me?” Cruise said. “I’ve never forgotten my duty to the Hive.”

  “I’m talking about your duty to humankind,” Ash said.

  Cruise stared at her with the resentful eyes of a man who had argued himself into a corner. “Last I checked, we’re all that’s left of humanity now.”

  Ash’s face hardened. “Look, I’m not going to apologize for my decision to attempt a rescue mission. I had the future of the human race in mind.”

  “And you fucked humanity in the process,” Cruise grumbled.

  “You forget yourself, Commander,” Ash said. “Now, the past is behind us. I suggest you leave it there. We have to look at the future. If you can’t deal with it, get out. Now. We’ll manage without you.” She was breathing heavily.

  He looked at the ceiling, then back at her. “I don’t have any other choice. If I don’t go, we’re all dead anyway, right?”